Hey guys. I guess I’m here to vent. That’s all this really is, but I need it regardless. I’m a pretty popular guy at school. A junior in high school. I get along with everyone, but I just can’t seem to be happy. I have absolutely no ambition. I have no will to live, and I have no will to succeed. I go to school. I get along. I make jokes. People laugh at my jokes. I go home. I don’t talk to my parents. My pride has ruined our respective relationships, but I don’t regret it. My pride is one of the only things that constitutes my identity.
I go to play practice. I am the best actor in our small town. I’ve been acting for a year now. Advertisers sign contracts because I am in the show. I am proud of this. Everyone tells me they think that I could make it in Hollywood, if I really wanted to. I don’t. I don’t want success. Succeeding in life makes you happy. Deep down, I don’t really want to be happy. Being happy is synonymous with accepting the world for how it is. The world is a bad place.My best friend killed herself because of this world. I can never accept this world for what it is.
Sometimes, I don’t want to move. I just want to stand still. There is no particular reason to move in any given direction. Standing still means just as much as moving. I keep trudging along anyway. That’s what people expect me to do, so I do it. It eats away at my soul, to keep moving. I feel very lost
I am not terrible with girls. I am not a virgin. There is only one girl I feel like I can ever love, though. This probably isn’t true, but I feel this way none the less. She’s expressed interest in me. I push her away every time. I can not talk to this girl. I feel like if I do, my meticulously constructed personality will come crashing down around me. I will tell her who I really am. I will tell her about my crippling depression. I will tell her that I want to kill myself every day. I can not have this. I am much to proud to let people know how weak I really am. This is a silly reason to keep everything bottled up inside. I do it anyway.
I am addicted to cigarettes. If I could get alcohol more often, I’d be addicted to that too. Every time I drink, I drink entirely to much. It takes a pack of cigarettes to get me through the day. Cigarettes keep me sane. Cigarettes are a means of control over my life. A means of control over my death. I like to be in control. I also smoke a lot of weed. Weed is not addictive. I know what addiction is. I don’t always like weed, though. Weed makes me feel happy. Most of the time, I don’t want to be happy. I have already explained this
Holding this all in is making me lose my mind. I talk to myself sometimes. Sometimes I laugh out loud when I’m all alone. I laugh for a while. I laugh because I can’t cry. Men don’t cry. So I laugh at how terrible everything is. I laugh in spite. I laugh in spite of everything. It is a very maniacal laugh. A desperate laugh.
I do not dislike myself. I like myself a whole lot. In fact, I am rather narcissistic. I am a broken narcissist, however. I like myself, but I do not like my situation. I do not like what is around me. I do not like reality. Why is reality what it is? Why is there something instead of nothing? Why are the laws of the universe, such as newtons laws of physics the laws of the universe, instead of something else? Why do things have to be the way they are? It does not make sense to me. I think I’m going crazy.
The title “mr fish” comes from the song “Birth of a fish” by eyedea and abilities. It is a song that explains my view of the world. If you have read this far, I want you to know that I believe in you. I want to thank you for knowing that I am a very broken person. That I am not okay. No one else knows this. You are the only one, and for this I love you. The end.
5 comments
Fuck the world, fuck this fucked up reality in which we are obliged to live.
I don’t know what more to say, rather than I hear you, and I understand you.
I’m here if you ever want to talk, you can be yourself here, no pretending.
I appreciate your words, hazelleyes. What you’re doing on this site is a good thing.
Eh, maybe, nothing from what I do feels like it is enough anymore – but that’s a whole other story.
I just want you to know that you don’t have to keep pretending every waking moment that you are okey. If you ever need to talk, whenever, you can email me at claire.01tt @gmail.com (without the space). I know how it feels to have everyone look at you and think everything is alright when you just feel broken, shattered inside.
And I think you should give acting a chance. If it makes you happy, even if for a moment, don’t just say no before you try it. If it doesn’t work out, eh, fuck it. But at least give it a try. It might end up being better than you ever thought it could be.
I feel the same way. I have no energy, for no reason. I want to die, for no reason though. I’m somewhat popular too, guys like me. My life isn’t that bad, yet I feel like complete shit. I’m here if you need to talk, or just want someone to converse with.
It’s not unnatural for people to question the value of life (if any). It’s quite okay to go from day to day questioning your existence (to quote the good old Shakespeare ‘to be or not to be’), as getting your mind engaged in existential questions will eventually lead you to answers.
It’s much better getting your mind engaged in existential questions rather than being stuck in the rat-race for the read of your life.
Yet the truth is, even if I were to make preparations to die on Monday, and on Sunday evening I hug my friend and start crying on his shoulder, making a cryptic admission that “I am going to die soon…”, a wise friend would do nothing more except for giving you a smile, and he’d say: “but of course! we are all going to die soon”. This is because no-one has ever managed to achieve immortality. The beautiful truth is quite simple: everyone and everything that you see around you will soon cease to exist. Even a baby which was born today….even if it manages to reach the age of 130….it will still cease to exist soon.
1 day, 5 months, 17 years or 150 years is a laughable amount of time if we measure it from the perspective of the stars or the planets spinning around with huge force thousands and millions of miles above us deep down in Space.
Yes, we will all die, because what comes up, must come down.
And perhaps it doesn’t matter whether we die due to some external factors (like cancer, a car accident, respiratory failure, or old age) or whether we choose the time and place and circumstances of our death ourselves. The result (which we couldn’t have escaped anyway) is still the same.